


Watch as I Soar

by PhoebeADA



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemys to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Happy Ending, Hogwarts Sixth Year, School, Sexual Tension, Supportive Lucius Malfoy, Supportive Narcissa Black Malfoy, Virgin Draco Malfoy, Virgin Hermione Granger, legacy and gifts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25548604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoebeADA/pseuds/PhoebeADA
Summary: After a 14 year break, I decided to come back and try my hand at some Dramione. Comments and constructive criticism welcome."I'm not good enough for you. But no one is. And most men, good or bad, have limits to what they would do, even for someone they love. I have none. No God, no moral code, no faith in anything... Except for you. I would do anything you asked. I would fight, steal, or even kill for you. Hermione, I would burn the world, if you asked me to."
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 31
Kudos: 89





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything connected to it. I just borrow some characters. Have fun.

"I'm not good enough for you. But no one is. And most men, good or bad, have limits to what they would do, even for someone they love. I have none. No God, no moral code, no faith in anything.. Except for you. I would do anything you asked. I would fight, steal, or even kill for you. Hermione, I would burn the world, if you asked me to."

Hermione just stared at him, her mouth slightly agape. She tried to form words but her lips just wouldn't comply.

It had taken all of Draco's nonexistent Slytherin bravery to tell her how he felt. All that was left to do was stare at her. Hermione Granger. Brightest witch of her age. The Mudblood he had been taught to hate from infancy on. Harry Potter's best friend and one of Voldemort's most successful foes. A woman who was never shy about her opinions and never lost for words. The woman with the impossible curly hair and intelligent eyes. It had been her tenacity and her bravery that had attracted him in the first place. She was the most powerful witch he had ever met.

Said woman was still gaping at him, and Draco felt his resolve waver. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. She obviously did not return his affections. It had been a long shot anyway. Still…. the rejection hurt. After what felt like an eternity, he heard her walking to the door. It shut.

She had left. The breath he had been holding almost left with a sob. Draco's legs gave out but he hardly felt the stinging pain of his knees colliding with the stone-cold floor of the dungeon classroom. He braced himself with his hand on the floor, his nails digging into the stone. Pain. He needed pain to distract himself from his broken heart. And broken it was.  
  


He didn't know what hurt the most: the fact that she did not feel anything, or that he didn't even warrant any kind of response. She didn't even laugh… scoff….tell him that she hated him. Draco would have taken any little emotion she was willing to offer. However, he had received nothing.

He took a couple of breaths. In. Out. Like he had learned in the muggle self-help books he had devoured over the years. In. Out. Slowly, he felt his heart rate slow down. He took a final deep breath and focused on the pain in his knee. He could do it, he could. He had survived worse. Hell, he was surviving worse every time he stepped foot into the Manor. Voldemort had created his base there since the school year had started. Pain, suffering and despair had taken hold of his childhood home, a place that used to represent happiness, laughter and love. He dealt with that, so he could deal with this.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione kept watching him from the door. She knew that he thought that she had left. She still didn't know what to say to him. Heck, she didn't even know why she was still standing here. Her initial reaction had been flight, not fight. What was one supposed to say to a declaration like that? That boy… _man_ had hated her for as long as she could remember, and now he was on the floor because of her. She had walked to the door with every intention of shutting it on her way out, but something in his stance, the way he had not been able to watch and wait for her response, had made her stay.

Her heart leaped at the sob that broke the silence when he fell. Draco Malfoy, pureblood extremist and Death Eater in the making, was on his knees for her, Hermione Granger, Muggle-born, and Voldemort opposer. Hermione studied him while he was still on the floor. He had grown a lot over the summer. She had noticed it earlier. He must have grown a couple of inches at least. He had broad shoulders, and he had finally grown into his pointy chin. The thought made her smile. Hermione wasn't blind; she and all the other girls in school had realized how fit and enticing the self-proclaimed “Slytherin god” had become. His focused breathing brought her back from her reminiscing. Looking at him again, she shook her head slightly. He couldn't have meant it. It was impossible. And yet…. she had briefly wondered if this was some ploy devised by Voldemort, but seeing Draco in such despair had quickly dissuaded her of that notion. Draco was in pain. There was no denying it.

Taking a deep breath she opened her mouth. "Dumbledore."

\----

“Dumbledore."

Draco's heart stopped. There was no other way to describe the feeling. To hear her voice behind him must be a hallucination. He spun around so fast he almost got whiplash. As it happened, he turned around so fast that his shoes slipped and he landed on his ass with his hands braced behind him.

She was really there. Standing in front of the door. Bushy hair and all. Her hands behind her back, she was leaning against the door. Her beautiful brown eyes were fixed on his. He could see the slight smirk that had formed on her bow-shaped lips. She was here. She was really here.

"What?" He cleared his throat after the word had left his lips in a high squeal.

"Dumbledore." Hermione's eyes were still fixed on his grey ones.

Draco scrambled until he was standing again. Hesitantly he walked towards her, stopping an arm's length away from her.

"I don't understand." His voice was barely more than a whisper.

Hermione smiled.

"I don’t need you to burn the world for me, Draco. In fact, I mostly like the world as it is. Talk to Dumbledore. Let us help you." She smiled encouragingly yet hesitantly at him.

Ohhhh. Oh. He understood. This was like SPEW. She had to help the poor creature. Her Gryffindor helper syndrome had taken over. Draco closed his eyes again, this time in disappointment. Her hate he could stand, her indifference he could bear, her pity …. her pity he wouldn't tolerate.

"Save it, Granger. I am not one of your weird projects.. You can't just…." He was stopped cold by the touch of her finger on his lips. She was touching him. Of her own free will. She was touching his lips. It was the first skin-to-skin contact since she had slapped him back in 3rd year. And it felt exquisite. Draco could practically feel the electricity jolt through him. All of his instincts told him to prolong the contact. To get more. Deeper. If he wanted to, he could flick his tongue and taste her creamy skin. Tasting her, marking her, making her his.

"No project Malfoy. This is what I need you to do. Talk to him. Let us help. And then…." Her voice trailed off while she was distracted by his hot breath on her smooth fingertip. His skin was scorching hers.

"And then?" Deliberately he had touched his tongue to her fingertip, not being able to resist the temptation. By Merlin, she tasted delicious. She tasted like sunshine and heaven. She tasted like more than he had ever hoped for and more than he would ever deserve. His pupils dilated as he saw the slight blush that was creeping up her cheeks and cleavage. Interesting. The encounter didn't leave her unaffected. His heart leapt with joy. Maybe there was hope for him yet. Maybe the Gryffindor princess would be able to save the Slytherin beast. Save his soul, his future, his legacy.

It felt like lightning. The second his tongue had touched her skin she had felt it all through her body. How was that possible? How could Draco Malfoy of all people ignite such intense emotion in her? Hermione retracted her finger and stepped back instinctively. Draco followed as if she were a magnet. Hermione's back collided with the door, which left her breathless for a moment. That didn't stop Draco from stepping even closer. There was hardly any space between them now. Hermione wet her lips and Draco's eyes turned into liquid silver.

Her brows wrinkled in concentration. "Then we can become friends,” she almost whispered.

Draco scoffed. "Friends? I have friends, Granger. Slytherin, remember? 'In Slytherin you make real friends.'" He pressed his right hand to the wood next to her head, his fingers almost touching her curls.

"I told you that I would do anything for you and you want us to be friends? Do you have any idea what I would be giving up? What the repercussions of my actions would be? How many people would be affected by it?" The last words were almost a hiss. He needed her to understand the direness of the situation. She needed to understand that this wasn't a ploy, a deception, or even a whim. This was his life. The lives of his parents and friends.

Weirdly enough she felt no fear. Hermione's heart was racing, but the fact had little to do with fear, and everything to do with Draco's proximity and the liquid heat in his eyes. His intensity nearly made her gasp. She saw more emotions in his eyes than she ever thought possible. Still, there was too much history and she was too much of a level-headed person to promise him anything.

"It's all I can offer. You have mistreated me for years. I have hated you just as long." Her voice was almost desperate.

"I need more." He eyed her lips and Hermione's blush intensified tenfold.

"I cannot promise you what …." Draco interrupted her before she could finish her sentence.

"A kiss." Her pupils widened in surprise.

"What?" Instinctively her eyes focused on his slightly pink lips. They were nicely shaped.

Draco's focus switched between her astonished eyes and her pink lips. "One kiss. And you tell me if …one day… you might… want me, too. Might ….. love me, too"

She wet her lips on instinct and he groaned. “You're killing me here, Granger." Some of the old cockiness had chased away a bit of the desperation in his voice.

Could she? Would she dare? An hour ago she had still thought that he hated her, and now he was standing in front of her, desire clearly written in his stormy eyes.

"Just one?" The slight waver in her voice almost almost broke him.

He nodded. "One kiss and one answer." Hermione had barely nodded when he descended on her lips. The first contact almost burned her with its intensity. She let out a surprised gasp and Draco took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He would not waste what might very well be his only shot. She tasted like heaven. Like salvation and sunshine. Her lips were sweet and soft and the little noises that escaped her almost made him lose his mind. She didn't kiss him back. But he had not expected her to. This was more than he had ever hoped for.

Hermione's mind went blank. There was nothing left in that hyperactive brain of hers. Draco Malfoy knew how to kiss. His lips were gentle but firm, soft yet unyielding. Everything about this situation overwhelmed her. His scent, a mixture of sandalwood and cedar. The heat of his body against hers. His hard chest as it pressed into her much softer bosom. And his taste… by the gods. He tasted divine. Not even realizing the little noises of encouragement she made, Hermione gently laid her hand over his chest and felt his wildly beating heart as she carefully pressed against him. The gesture was clear. The kiss was over. Draco could have cried.

He pecked her lips a final time, not being able to step away yet. Their breaths mingled, visible in the cold dungeon. They stared into each other's eyes for what seemed an eternity. Finally, he stepped back and Hermione opened the door. Before she left she looked over her shoulder. Draco tried to burn her image into his very soul. She was still a bit breathless, her lips swollen, her curls cascading down her back, cheeks flushed with pink, and her eyes slightly glazed over. She was magnificent.

"Talk to Dumbledore."


	3. Chapter 3

Dear All,

I have found a beta reader. She is absolutely wonderful and very patient. Sheila McLean, you rock....

‘Talk to Dumbledore’ she had said. Yeah, right. Draco had been standing in front of the headmaster’s office for what felt like hours. He was almost ready. Really. He could practically feel the offered lemon sherbet on his tongue.

Hermione’s eyes were practically glued to Harry’s Marauder’s Map. She was fixating so much on that script that showed her Draco Malfoy that she hardly noticed anything else. He had been standing in front of Dumbledore’s office for seemingly an eternity now. She wasn’t sure what to do. Her gut told her that he would not go back on his word. He would talk to Dumbledore. For her. He would do it because he loved her. Despite all odds and reason, he loved her. Her mind told her that this was something that would never happen. He was Draco Malfoy, she was Hermione Granger. If there had ever been two complete opposites, it would be them. After their kiss, she had still been in a daze. It had been a miracle that she had been able to walk back to her dorm room; her knees were still a little wobbly, and every time she thought about his lips on hers she would blush.

Finally the little script moved. He had done it. He had gone into Dumbledore’s office. She was too stunned to say anything. Heat bloomed in her belly. She couldn’t believe it. Hermione jumped up, all nervous energy. It was her move now. A small smile appeared on her lips, and nervous butterflies started to roam in her belly. She had no idea if she could like him the way he wanted. Sure, the attraction was there, his kiss had proven that. But could she let herself fall for him? Or would one of them burn?

\----

“Lemon sherbet?”

Draco rolled his eyes. The old man was so predictable. He shook his head.

Dumbledore just looked at the young man sitting in front of him. The young Malfoy boy had grown into a fine specimen of a wizard, at least on the outside. He was still not sure if the young man was loyal to his father and his Master or if his soul was still redeemable. 

The silence in the room was deafening. Draco could hear every noise tenfold: the ticking of the imposing grandfather clock; the slight noises made by that blasted phoenix; the crunch of the candy that Dumbledore was chewing relentlessly; the beating of his own heart - which threatened to leap out of his chest any second now.

He was crazy. That must be it. There was no other explanation for why he was sitting here, of all places, instead of his familiar common room. It was madness. Utter madness. What kind of fool risked everything for love? Was it even love? He scoffed internally…. he hardly knew her. His “love” stemmed entirely from glimpses at a distance.   
  


Just because he knew that she liked her tea with milk and no sugar, that she crinkled her nose when she read something she did not immediately understand, that under all that Gryffindor bravery and skill she was still insecure about her place in the wizarding world, didn’t mean that he knew her. Or that they were suited towards each other, no matter how soft her skin had been or how intoxicating she tasted. Draco could feel his breathing starting to increase; just thinking about her had him reduced to a pining mess.

“I …. love her.”

The words were out of his mouth before he even knew he wanted to say them. It was not the confession itself that made Dumbledore pause; it was the tone in Draco’s voice. The resoluteness in it. There was no doubt in Dumbledore’s mind that Draco meant every word. He was in love.

Dumbledore was aware of who it must be. The only reason a declaration like this needed to be uttered here, in the sanctuary of the headmaster’s office, was that the witch in question must be wholly unsuitable for Draco. The only witch who would warrant such commitment, secrecy, and despair would be the Muggle-born Hermione Granger.

“I see.” As unremarkable as they seemed, just these few words let Draco exhale. His shoulders slumped as if a great burden had been lifted from them. The old man was a fool, Draco had always known that, but he was not an idiot. The way he paraded Potter in front of Voldemort year after year without any regard for the boy’s safety was a testament to Dumbledore’s ruthlessness. Weirdly enough, it was these dark tendencies that helped Draco talk to him at all.   
  


Although Draco was no fool either, he knew that talking to the old man would come with its own price. A price he hoped would not be too steep.

Dumbledore watched Draco attentively. His mind was racing with all the possibilities. The mere fact that the boy was here told him that he meant it. There was no going back for Malfoy; he had committed himself to his love and the path that would lead him down.

“Have you told her?”

Draco looked up and met Dumbledore’s gaze head on. “Yes.” Pride sounded in his voice as he answered without hesitation.

“Well, that’s good news my boy. Let’s talk about the future then.” The twinkle in his eyes did nothing but put Draco on edge. He would soon know how steep the price would be.

\-----

Hermione could not focus on the conversation that was going around her. She, Harry, and Ron were in the Great Hall for dinner. The boys were talking with Seamus about something or other; she honestly had no idea what. Her eyes kept drifting to the door; every time someone entered, she was both hoping and dreading that it would be Draco. Her stomach was in knots and the mere thought of food turned her stomach. What had he discussed with Dumbledore? What would he expect from her now?   
  


Her eyes drifted to Ron. He was talking to Harry with his mouth full, and Hermione sighed at the sight. Ron caught her eye and smiled at her. She barely returned the smile. This was the boy she had been in love with for years; the loving and loyal friend with the big family who already treated her as one of their own. She had imagined them together for years. Eventually Ron would gather his courage and ask her out. He would tell her he loved her and they would lead happy, blissful lives. However, he hadn’t gathered his courage yet. She had been so sure that he would tell her how he felt after the Yule Ball, but every opportunity she had given him just passed by. Still, they were meant to be together. She knew it.

“You okay, Mione?” Harry’s voice barely reached her.

“Huh?” It took him waving his hand in front of her face to get her attention.   
  


“Hermione?”

She blinked and focused on her best friend. “Yes, I am fine.” She blushed slightly and hoped the simple answer was enough to put him at ease.

“Uh-huh,” Harry muttered, unconvinced. “Did something happen today? You seem on edge.”

Shaking her head quickly, she laughed. “No, of course not. I’ve been thinking about my transfiguration essay. You know me.”

“Always with the homework, Mione. You need to have more fun!” Ron waved his chicken leg at her for emphasis. “We’re young; you should be enjoying yourself! It’s a shame really.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, ready to chew him out, when she noticed Malfoy entering the Great Hall. He looked worn. but …well. His eyes briefly met hers, and the intensity in his grey orbs nearly burned her. He nodded at her and she tried to smile. He jerked his head towards the exit and left. The meaning was clear; she was to follow him.

She glanced at her friends; it seemed none of them had noticed the quick exchange.

“I’m going to the library. I’ll see you later.”

Harry nodded, but his eyes had a searching quality, and Ron just shook his head.

“I’m telling you, mate. She is wasting the whole thing. Shame really.”

\---

  
  


Hermione quickly followed Draco into an empty classroom. She cast a silencing spell and watched him warily.

Although they were standing a few feet apart, Hermione could have sworn that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. She swayed slightly; the emotional exhaustion of the day and lack of food was catching up to her.   
  


Draco saw her sway and reacted instinctively, taking her by the arms and guiding her to a bench.

“Seriously, Granger. Are you incapable of looking after yourself? Did you have anything to eat? Drink?” He had stepped back after he had helped her to sit down. It was as if he was unsure of how much contact she would allow before she ran to her friends and he would be killed. It would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so serious. He took a lemon sherbet from his robe pocket and handed it to her.

“Here, eat this. Your blood sugar must be low.” He kept looking at her as if she might flee any second.

Hermione’s gaze moved from him to the lemon sherbet in her hand and back. She started to smile. Then she snorted. She really couldn’t help it. Draco Malfoy had given her a _lemon sherbet_. The snort bubbled over into a giggle, and soon she was laughing so hard that her sides hurt.

Draco just stared at her. She was crazy. Of course he had known that. There was no other explanation why she tolerated Potter and the Weasel, but still. He was about to ask her what was wrong when his eyes fell on the sweet in her hand and he smirked. The absurdity of the situation hit him hard.

A fucking lemon sherbet. The old fool had insisted on giving him one before Draco had left his office.   
  


Initiation to the Light by lemon sherbert. Fucking fantastic.   
  


He soon was laughing with her and sat down on the opposite side of the bench.

A few minutes passed before both of them had recovered enough to speak coherently again.

Hermione smiled tentatively at him as she unwrapped the candy and put it in her mouth. Her cheeks colored lightly as he watched every movement intently before his eyes rested briefly on her lips.

“I talked to Dumbledore.” His eyes met hers and she almost got lost in his gaze.

“I gathered as much.”

She opened her mouth to speak, then found herself uncertain of what to say. Finally, she settled on, “When will you leave?”

He looked confused for a second before he understood.

“I am not going anywhere, Granger. Dumbledore listened to me and decided to discuss my situation with the Order members. But I can guess the outcome already.” His voice had taken on a steely quality. 

“No.” Hermione stood up. This was not what she had wanted. She had expected Dumbledore to hide Malfoy and his family, to take them away from the war to safety.

Draco watched her pacing up and down.

“You will not be a spy, Draco Malfoy! The idea is ridiculous.”

He leaned back against the table behind him, his elbows resting on it. It was kind of amusing to see her ire when it wasn’t directed at him. Draco was still deciding if he should be insulted by her lack of confidence in his spying abilitiy when she stopped in front of him, her hands firmly planted on her hips.

“I won’t allow it!”

Studying the witch in front of him, Draco grinned. She was magnificent; her curls were almost like a living entity; they haloed around her. The fire in her eyes did things to his body he would rather not share with her yet.

“I wasn’t aware that I needed your permission for anything, Granger.” His rich drawl didn’t betray the humor behind his words.

She took a deep breath before she spoke again. “You will not become a spy, Malfoy. That is final. I will not allow it. It is too dangerous; the whole idea is ludicrous.”

Draco frowned. “Listen here, Granger. I will become a spy if needed. I am fully capable of doing this. Although I have to say, your lack of confidence in my abilities does not bode well for our future.”

Her eyes narrowed and she stepped closer. Draco had to lean back slightly as she braced her hands on the table behind him, successfully caging him in. The force in her eyes made him gulp. He had been right; Hermione Granger was formidable.

“This has nothing to do with my confidence in your abilities, you fool. It is too dangerous! You are just a boy! You are way too young to make this decision! How you could even consider such a …”

Her angry tirade stopped when he gripped her face between his hands and pulled her towards him. The suddenness of the action made her lose her balance, and she nearly fell forward before she put one of her knees on the bench next to him.   
  


Before she could scold him for pulling her off balance, he had covered her lips with his in a fierce kiss. His lips were just like she remembered. Soft yet unyielding. Before she could respond to the kiss, he let go of her face and his hand lazily gripped her thigh.

Hermione gasped as his hand seemed to scorch her upper thigh. A slight moan involuntarily escaped her as he gripped harder. “Make no mistake, Granger. I’m not a boy any more. I haven’t been for a while. I am nothing like the Weasel. I know where my priorities are.” As if to cement his words, his free hand cupped her cheek and brought her lips to his again, and he kissed her gently. This kiss felt more like a seduction than anything else. His slow, deliberate movements were not lost on Hermione and she swayed towards him, even more enticed.   
  


She answered his searching lips with pressure of her own. Her eyes fluttered closed just as she saw the delighted surprise in his. Before she knew it, her hands were tangled in his hair and she was straddling him. His tongue was sensually duelling with hers in deliberate movements.

He had meant to prove a point to her, that was all. He had not intended for them to snog like this. Not that he regretted the actual snogging. If he died a slow and painful death by Voldemort’s hand tomorrow, this moment would have made his life worthwhile. Her soft moans were like water on his parched soul; the scraping of her nails on his scalp, the sweetest caress. Her intoxicating taste was as divine as any wine. Never in a million years had he expected to be allowed to kiss her like this, to see her so vulnerable and open - and for him of all people. He felt his cock stirring and knew he had to stop. She deserved better than this. Better than him, but that was a fact he would have to live with.

More. She wanted more. That was all Hermione could think of when she felt him disentangle himself from her. She had no idea how he had pushed past 6 years of mistrust and hurt to make her feel so … cherished. She could feel his member beneath her, and instinct told her to rub against him. Suddenly the tales she’d heard from Ginny and the other girls in her House made so much more sense. She was surprised that any of them got anything done when these feelings were the reward for snogging boys. Well, men, at least in her case, although she doubted that the other boys could hold a candle to Draco Malfoy. An unwelcome image of Harry kissing her came to mind and she stilled abruptly.

Her heavy breath mingled with Draco’s as he searched her eyes for regret. Leaning back, Hermione studied him. Before she could say anything his voice rang clearly through the room.

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear about how much you regret this or that it was just a spur of the moment thing. I’m not expecting you to declare your eternal love, Granger.”

Although Hermione recognized his act of self-protection for what it was, she decided not to address it. What could she say? She didn’t love him. She didn’t even know him. The only things that she knew for a fact were that he could kiss and that she was apparently starved for male attention. That had to be it, right? The way he looked at her, as if she was the most precious thing that he had ever seen, coupled with adolescent hormones, must be the reason for her intense reaction.

“Promise not to say anything to Dumbledore before you have talked to me again.” She pleaded.

Draco nodded as he removed his hand from her thigh.

Hermione stood up, her legs a bit shaky.

“Harry and Ron. We.. I …well, first I, and then we, need to talk to them. I can’t keep this from them.” The words rushed out before she could convince herself differently. She was nowhere near ready to share the fact that Draco Malfoy had forsaken his birthright, a place by Voldemort’s side, because of his love for her. She had no idea how to start that particular conversation.

He had expected as much. “Of course. Tomorrow? Room of Requirement or Shrieking Shack?” A small part of him relished her surprised face. Of course he knew about both those locations. He had watched her for years.

“Um, the Room. At eight. Try to be nice. It will make things easier.”

Before he could say anything else, she had left the room. 

Draco scoffed. “Fled” would be more appropriate.

He would burn for her. Tomorrow he would prove it.


	4. Chapter 4

After leaving Draco, Hermione made a beeline for Harry and Ron. She needed to talk to them as soon as possible. After looking almost everywhere, she found them in the most unlikely place ever - the library. They were sitting at one of the tables, surrounded by books, parchments and quills. She nearly gaped. Harry looked up in time to see her face go slack and grinned.

“Thought we would get a head start on our essay, too.”

A wave of affection washed over Hermione. These two boys were her family. There was no denying it. She loved them.

Dread arose in her: she couldn’t lose their love. She just couldn’t.  
  


“That’s great! I’m very proud of you!” She meant it, too. She was incredibly proud of her two slackers. Ron and Harry smiled sheepishly at her.

  
  


Steeling herself and gathering that famous Gryffindor courage, Hermione went closer to their table.

“I need to talk to you. Privately.” She added, “now!” Her voice carried an urgency that was usually resolved for scolding them or everything related to Voldemort.

Ron and Harry glanced at each other; then, without a second thought, they rose and started packing their things. Soon they were done and started walking. “Let’s go, Hermione.”

She nearly had tears in her eyes. Very proud indeed.

———————-

After the trio had arrived in front of the Room of Requirement, Hermione concentrated on a suitable location for their discussion.

The room provided a nice looking seating area with a fireplace, a tea tray filled with steaming Earl Grey and a variety of biscuits already on the coffee table. Walking in, the two boys sat down and Ron immediately put a plate together for himself and filled a tea cup. He started munching before Hermione had even started talking.

“I need you two to listen without interrupting me until I’m done. I promise that I am going to give you all the information I have, ok?” She was too nervous to sit, and she started to pace, wringing her hands.

Harry nodded solemnly, and Ron swallowed nervously.

“Blimey, Hermione. Scare a bloke to death would ya? What is going on?” He slurped his tea.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione started relaying her story.

“This morning after Potions class, Professor Snape asked Malfoy and me to stay longer to discuss our new group assignment.”

Harry nodded and Ron chewed.

“After that, Malfoy and I decided to start dividing tasks.” As Hermione related the events to the boys, she reflected on what had happened:

_Hermione was sitting opposite Malfoy, both of them armed with a quill and parchment. They had divvied up the tasks for their potions assignment. What Snape had been thinking, pairing them together, was anyone’s guess. So far, though, Hermione had enjoyed the work. Malfoy was clever and focused. It took just a few minutes to divide the work between them._

_She looked up, smiling. “That went great. Thank you. Will it be ok if we meet once a week to discuss our progress?”_

_Draco nodded. Other than talking about the assignment, he had hardly acknowledged her; he hadn’t even looked up._

_“Sure, Granger. That is, if it’s only you. I can hardly be expected to tolerate the Weasel.” He smirked at her.  
  
_

_Hermione’s good mood vanished instantly. Her brown eyes flashed with anger.  
  
_

_“Would it kill you to be a decent human being for once in your life? And here I actually thought we had some rapport going. If you want this project to go well, you need to lay off! I thought there might be a halfway decent wizard under all your posturing, but you can’t even be civil for ten minutes! Harry and Ron are right, you_ are _a git.”  
  
_

_Draco looked at her, his mouth agape. This he hadn’t expected. Her fire was seldom directed at him. His gaze took her in; her bushy hair; her soft looking skin; the molten chocolate eyes that watched him with exasperation were remarkable._

_Draco didn’t know what possessed him to do what he did next. Maybe it was the fact that this was their first time alone; maybe it was because Voldemort had given him a task which he knew he could … would never complete. Or it was the simple truth that he would, in all earnestness, do anything for her. All she had to do was ask. And his love had asked._

_He stood up and faced her bravely. "I'm not good enough for you. But no one is. And most men, good or bad, have limits to what they would do, even for someone they love. I have none. No God, no moral code, no faith in anything... Except for you. I would do anything you asked. I would fight, steal, or even kill for you. Hermione, I would burn the world, if you asked me to."  
  
_

—————————————  
  


“And then we talked a bit.” ‘Understatement of the year, Hermione,’ she thought to herself. “And I told him that he should talk to Dumbledore and then we would see.”

Mentally exhausted after her retelling of the event, Hermione sat down and stuffed a chocolate biscuit in her mouth, chewing apprehensively.

Ron and Harry had not said anything to her. They were both just staring.

She took the opportunity to prepare herself a cup of tea - a hint of sugar and a splash of milk.

Unexpectedly, it was Ron who spoke first.

“See what?” His voice had an angry undertone.

Closing her eyes Hermione cursed Ron. Did his once-a-week brilliant thought have to be about _this_? He couldn’t have focused on anything else?

“Then we would see if we could be friends.” Even to her, that sounded incredibly lame. No wonder Malfoy had felt the need to remind her how much was at stake.

“You gotta be kidding. Friends? With Malfoy? He’s been an ass to you for the last 6 years! He hates Harry and me - he always makes fun of us!” Ron stood up and started walking up and down.

“And let’s not forget that he’s a Pureblood idiot! A Voldemort fanatic. A Death Eater! Are you out of your bloody mind? Friends with Malfoy?”

She wasn’t sure whether his tirade was over, or if he was just bracing himself for a second round, when Harry interjected.

“I don’t believe it!”

Hermione swallowed her tea. “No, really Harry, I promise that is what happened. And I know he already talked to Dumbledore… I….” He interrupted her, a calculating look on his face.

“No, not that. I believe that. No one would be able to just make this weird story up.” He paused. “It’s the friends part I don’t believe. Draco Malfoy, spoiled Pureblood prince, one of the richest wizards in the UK, probably the world, is willing to give all of that up because you promised him friendship?!” He scoffed. “Yeah, right!”

Hermione bit her lip. She’d had no intention of telling them about the kiss, let alone their snog, but Harry was too perceptive for her own good.

“Well, he…” She swallowed; somehow her mouth had gotten completely dry. “That is…we…I mean I…” She grabbed her cup of tea and drained it in one big gulp.

“He asked for a kiss to see if, someday, I might be able to feel the same way. And I said yes, and it was a nice kiss.”

There was utter silence in the room for about 3 seconds before all hell broke loose. Harry and Ron both jumped up and started talking at the same time - well, screaming. She could hardly make out what they were saying, but words like “forced,” “Death Eater,” “idiot,” and “crazy” were frequent.  
Hermione tried to remain calm; the boys were entitled to some kind of emotional release. Merlin knew she knew the feeling, and she didn’t begrudge them their outburst.

But after a few seconds, their tune changed. She heard some things that she did not like whatsoever, “gullible” being one of them. How dare they assume that a pretty boy just had to kiss her and she would swoon like an idiot! She tuned out their voices as she tried to focus on her breathing. Nothing would be gained by losing her temper. Nothing at all. She refocused on the conversation in time to hear Ron’s last statement.  
  


“And poor Harry! What about his feelings?! How can you even look at Malfoy after what the Death Eaters did to Harry’s parents?!”  
  


Hermione jumped up again, truly angry now. “Ronald Bilius Weasley, stop talking this instant or I’ll hex your tongue out! After all we’ve been through, how can you question my loyalty? I can’t believe you! Of course I haven’t forgotten about what happened to Harry’s parents, but Malfoy wasn’t the one who did that! He is NOT a Death Eater, do you hear me?” Without having realized it, she had backed the boys towards the sofa, where they were now sitting. Hermione stopped mere centimeters before them, looking angry and with her hands on her hips.  
  


“Now, since that is cleared up - who I kiss is entirely up to me; is that understood?!”  
  


Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry’s elbow connected with his ribs and he closed it again.

“Yes, Hermione.”  
  


She nodded approvingly and relaxed. “Malfoy and I have kissed. He wanted to know if his decision to tell me would…well, pay off, I guess. And I get it. As Harry pointed out, there is a lot at stake here.”

Harry watched her carefully as she sat back down and refilled her tea cup.

“What happens now?”

Shrugging her shoulders, she grabbed another biscuit.  
  


“I’m not sure. I think Dumbledore wants him to be a spy, but the idea is ridiculous. I mean, he’s 17 for crying out loud.” She thoughtfully nibbled on her biscuit 

“He promised me not to make any decisions before talking to me. And I told him he needed to talk to you two.”  
  


Ron and Harry looked at each other. A silent conversation seemed to happen right before Hermione’s eyes. She had no idea what would happen. Would her best friends trust her judgement and accept the new person in her life? The thought brought her up short - Draco Malfoy was now a person n her life for the foreseeable future…..possibly forever.  
  


The thought distracted her so much that she nearly missed that her boys had finished their silent talk.

“Hermione, you’ve never let us down, and you’ve never steered us wrong.” Harry smiled at her. “We trust you. If you think we should give Malfoy a chance, then that is what we'll do.”

Gratitude welled up in her. This was more than she’d thought possible.  
  


“Thank you, Harry!” Her brilliant smile almost blinded them. “And thank you, Ron!”  
  


“Yeah, yeah. I never said I was going to be _nice_ to the ferret.”  
  



	5. Chapter 5

Author's note. I wanted to thank you so much for sticking with this story and for writing really great comments. It honestly means a lot to me and is a boost to my confidence as a writer. Once again I want to pay my respect to Sheila, the best beta reader I ever had.

The next two parts are written and I have send them off already. This will be the longest fic I have ever written and I am very excited.

  
What do you guys think of the characterization so far? Is it close?

Do you think the progression of the story is plausible?

What aspect did you enjoy the most?

Thank you so much again.

The next chapter is pure smut. So look forward to that ;-)

\------ 

Hermione had been checking her appearance in the mirror for the last 20 minutes, which was unlike her. She was not a girl who cared overly much about her appearance. She did, however, believe in looking her best when confronting a difficult situation. And after dinner today, she would meet with Draco Malfoy, together with Harry and Ron, a scenario that she had never envisioned before, not even for a millisecond.

Raising her chin, she turned away from the mirror. It was what it was. Her hair would always be difficult and the rest… well … Malfoy claimed he loved her. He could deal!

Food - she needed food. The last thing she needed to happen was another incident like last time when she had skipped food. It wouldn’t do to become faint again.

She met Harry and Ron in the common room and together they went to the Great Hall to eat.

Immediately upon entering, she scanned the hall for the familiar ice blond, but couldn’t find him. She sat down and began with her soup while Ron started stuffing his face like always. Harry was eating some casserole, but his main focus was on her.

“It will be ok, Hermione. We will find a way, we always do.”

Gratitude shone in her eyes. Merlin, how she loved him. He was the brother she had never had. Smiling, she took his offered hand and squeezed it. She wanted to say something but then she spotted Draco in the entrance of the Great Hall. He acknowledged her with a lift of his chin and she nodded in return. Looking over to Ron and Harry, she saw that both of them were just waiting for her instruction. They followed her lead as she gathered her things and rose from the table, Ron grabbing a mince pie as they left.   
  


Draco had ventured back into the hallway to wait for the trio.

“Hermione, Potter, Weasley.” A grateful smile was his reward for being polite.

“Slight change of plan. We will talk in Dumbledore’s office. The situation has changed.” Before the others could say anything, he offered his hand to Hermione, and, too perplexed to do anything else, she took it.

Draco turned and walked towards Dumbledore’s office. Hermione hardly noticed that Harry and Ron had started talking behind her. Her mind was focused on Draco. The heat of his skin was more distracting than she would have expected. It felt weird, touching Draco Malfoy so openly. Secretly, she was glad that the hallways were deserted. She didn’t know how she would have felt about anyone else seeing the intimate gesture.

Draco knew that he had taken her by surprise, both with his offered hand and with the notion that they would meet with Dumbledore. He didn’t care. Touching her gave him strength and purpose. He squeezed her hand harder.

The way to Dumbledore’s office seemed too short. He stopped in front of the gargoyle and said the password. Hermione began to enter but he tugged her back.

“I need to talk to you for a second without your entourage.” Ron began to speak, but Hermione beat him to it.

“Ron, Harry, why don’t you go ahead? We’ll be with you shortly.” Harry nodded and dragged Ron with him leaving Hermione and Draco alone.

She patiently waited for Draco to say something, but he just stared at her while his thumb drew little circles on her palm. The feeling was driving her insane. She could feel the small movements traveling up her arm and down into her belly… well, maybe lower.

Focusing her mind, she cleared her throat, but before she could say anything he had breached the small distance between them and kissed her. It was a chaste kiss, devoid of passion and full of reassurance and affection.

“Sorry. I know that I am going too far for your liking, but I couldn’t help myself.” He smirked but she couldn’t really scold him.

“Liar! You are not sorry, Draco Malfoy!” she countered, her voice teasing.

He laughed. “Guilty.”

They shared a small smile. “Granger…Hermione promise to keep an open mind, okay?”

Before she could say anything else, he nudged her towards the door.

“Let’s go.”

\------

The scene that greeted her in Dumbledore’s office made her speechless. Dumbledore, Harry, Ron, as well as Lucius Malfoy were sitting, waiting for them.

“Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Malfoy. How nice of you to join us. Tea?”   
  


“Thank you, Headmaster.”

She sat down in between Harry and Ron, leaving Draco to sit with his father.

“I’ll be mother,” Dumbledore said in his annoyingly cheerful voice.

After all of them had tea and were settled, Dumbledore sat down as well. Hermione was wishing for something stronger - who needed tea at a time like this?

“Lucius, why don’t you begin?”

The Malfoy patriarch nodded. His manner was completely relaxed. It was as if they were sitting in his parlor in the Manor.

“Very well. You see, my son came to me today to tell me that he loves you, Miss Granger.” He nearly managed to suppress the sneer that sprang to his face at the statement.   
  


Harry’s “And are you okay with that?” was almost overshadowed by Ron’s unbelieving “The ferret did _what_?”

Wisely, Lucius chose to ignore both of them.   
  
Lucius was still focused on Hermione, and once more she wished that her tea could magically become alcohol. Really strong alcohol. She had almost forgotten how intense the older Malfoy was, and part of her wondered whether Draco would be as imposing as his father when he got older.   
  


“As I was saying. Draco has told his mother and me of his love for you. To say that we were surprised would be an understatement, my dear; however, there is nothing to be done. Draco loves you, and my family and I will do everything in our power to ensure that he is happy. And since his happiness is now forever tied to you, your happiness and safety is of the utmost importance to us.”

  
Dumbledore nodded eagerly, as if all of this was completely clear and not one of the weirdest things Hermione had ever heard.

She cleared her throat uneasily. “Isn’t this just a bit much? Not that I doubt your feelings, Draco, but we’re just teenagers, and most people - well, they don’t always end up with their school sweethearts, do they? You - you could fall for someone else in a few years and…” Before Draco could interject to tell her how improbable that was, Lucius scoffed.

“Hardly, Miss Granger. As I said. He loves you. That will never change. My wife and I have been married for 25 years and we have been together far longer than that. We will be together until we die, and even then our souls will be connected still. That is the Malfoy legacy.”

“I knew it. I knew there had to be a curse. No way would the ferret just love Hermione. I mean really! The notion is just laughable!” Ron had sprung up and was almost doing some kind of happy dance, but Harry quickly pulled him back on the couch, hissing, “Shut up, Ron!”

Hermione just looked at Draco. “Is that true? Have you been cursed to love me?”

Lucius rolled his eyes. “ I thought you said she is intelligent, Draco.” His gaze turned back to Hermione.

“No one has been cursed to love anyone against their will, Miss Granger. However, there is a - _gift_ involved, one might say. Generations ago, members of the Malfoy family became able to recognize their soul mate when their magical cores connect. Once that happens, a Malfoy will not choose another, and will not stray. The soul mate becomes a member of the Malfoy family. The moment Draco revealed his soul mate in you, your name and portrait appeared on the Malfoy ancestral tapestry. You are the bride that was chosen for him by magic itself - the most perfect partner he could ever have, a match in every respect.” Looking her in the eye, he concluded softly, “You are the best. And now, essentially, you are also a Malfoy.”

Her mind was reeling. How was that possible?   
  


Turning to Draco, she asked quietly, “Does that mean you didn’t have a choice? You have to love me?”

Draco shook his head. “No, I have a choice. The family gift doesn’t force love on me; it just shows me my perfect match. I knew when you slapped me back in third year what you could be to me." He stood up and walked over to her, kneeling in front of her and taking her hands in his. He tried to smile, but too much was riding on this, and he failed miserably.

“After that, I started to pay a lot of attention to you, and over time I’ve come to love everything about you.” Ron snorted and Hermione shot him a death glare.   
  


Deliberately tuning out the others in the room, Draco continued. “I love how intelligent you are and that you don’t try to hide it. I love your loyalty for your moronic friends. I love the fact that you have read _Hogwarts, a History_ about a million times, that you love chocolate but hate chocolate cake, that you douse your food in lemon juice and yet drink your tea with milk. There is nothing that I don’t love about you. The gift just put you on my radar. The rest… well the rest is just you, love!”

Harry listened intently, determined to look for a loophole for his friend, while Ron seemed to be looking for the trick that would reveal Malfoy’s undoubted deceit. Hermione shot another look their direction which clearly meant “keep quiet!” and they both shuffled in their seats uneasily.

Dumbledore and Lord Malfoy quietly waited for the young couple to finish their conversation.

“So.. you could choose someone else if you wanted, to marry and have kids with, right?” Some of the light in Draco’s eyes dimmed after her question, and he had to remind himself how new all of this still was for her.

“I could, yes. The magic wouldn’t stop me. Your name would still be on the family tapestry though. I could be content, but my ultimate happiness lies with you!”

His words both frightened and reassured her. She wasn’t sure how to deal with all of his intensity, but the fact that neither his life nor his happiness depended on her calmed her immensely.

“We need to talk about this later!” Draco nodded and went back to his seat.

The fact that this intimate display of affection had been witnessed by four other men bothered Hermione a lot. She hated that Draco had to bare himself and his family’s history like this.

Lucius cleared his throat.

“Now that magic has declared that you, Miss Granger, are Draco’s perfect match, I will not allow anything or anyone to stand in the way of that.”   
  


He put his teacup on the table and swiftly stood up. His robes swirled around him as he turned to face the others in the room.

“With Draco’s soul mate revealed, it is time that we put this Voldemort business behind us. I believe with our help and …” he nodded towards Harry, “young Mr. Potter and the rest of the” :cough: “Order, we will be able to take care of business, as the Mu…Muggles say, by the end of the school year. Would that be agreeable with everyone?”


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione was musing about what Lucius had told her. Since she was meeting Draco in the library, she had forgone her robe in favor of a skirt and blouse. She’d had hardly any time to digest everything she had learned today. She was part of the Malfoy family now; how that worked, she still wasn’t sure, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about it either. A few days ago she would have been disgusted to be considered part of such an elitist family, but now? The fact that the Malfoys, of all people, would change their whole ideology for love of her was surreal.

During the meeting in Dumbledore’s office, it was decided that Draco would become a Death Eater if Voldemort demanded it. If that happened, Draco and Lucius would then work with Snape from within Voldemort’s regime to dismantle the Dark Lord’s organization. She still hoped that it wouldn’t come to this. Since Draco was, as of now, a spy, they needed to make sure that he wasn’t seen with her or any other Order member. Although he was not a Death Eater yet they still needed to be careful, after all Voldemort was staying at the Manor. Dumbledore had opened up a secret room in the library to be used for discreet meetings, unnoticed by others. Hermione was on her way to this room right now.

She entered the library and went straight to the Dark Arts Explained Superficially (as Hermione liked to call it) section. As she’d been instructed, she went to the book titled _The Dark Arts and I: A journey through my teenage years,_ and spoke the incantation that would open up the secret passageway. The whole area had a Notice-Me-Not charm on it, so no one paid any attention to the students wandering around in that area.

Apparently she was the first one here. She and Draco were supposed to meet at 7, with Ron and Harry joining them after their Quidditch strategy meeting.

She gasped quietly as she looked around the room. It was like a dream come true. The good-sized room was decorated in cream and blue. High windows overlooked the Black Lake and parts of the Forbidden Forest. She would be able to watch the sunset from the cozy window seats. Plush sofas and arm chairs stood near the fireplace, and 3 different work tables were already prepared with parchment, ink and everything else they could need. One wall was covered with extensive bookcases full of research materials Dumbledore had chosen, and she longed to have a quick peek. It felt so good to finally be proactive instead of just reacting to whatever Voldemort was trying to achieve. She wondered what kind of information Draco would be able to provide.

Draco. How weird it was to think of him by that name!

“Draco.” She said his name out loud, the r rolling over tongue. Using his first name was still awkward. She licked her lips, cleared her throat, and tried again.

“Draco.” This time her voice had been stronger and she smiled a bit.

She still wasn’t sure if she could love him. Was she attracted to him? Merlin yes! The man knew how to kiss. And Hermione had to admit that it was more than flattering to be on the receiving end of so much admiration. And if one looked at Draco Malfoy objectively, without any learned animosity, he was a catch; great looking, fit, intelligent, and, not that she cared about it, filthy rich. A rich, attractive, pureblood Slytherin whose roots went back to William the Conqueror and even further, he could have anyone he wanted. And yet, magic had chosen her to be his best match. Disregarding his aristocratic, elitist upbringing, Draco Malfoy had actively heeded magic’s call and had chosen her, despite the complications that might arise from his attachment to her. And he liked her hair.   
  


A giggle bubbled up inside of her. This time his name was a sigh, “Draco.”

  
Draco would have loved to know what she was thinking about. When he entered the room, she had said his name, and at first he was surprised by her keen hearing. She looked lovely standing next to the window; the colors of the sunset really showcased her creamy complexion. He waited for her to say something else, but quickly understood that she had not realized that he was in the room. He approached her quietly, seeing she was deep in thought. It gave him hope. He had dreaded the idea that she would not be able to look past all his transgressions. He was afraid he would lose her before he had had the chance to really have her.

She said his name again, this time in a sigh. Her breathless tone went straight to his groin. His mind immediately conjured a vision of her in his bed, head thrown back in abandon, sighing his name in just that way while he pleasured her. Draco could feel his body reacting to one of his most treasured fantasies. He wanted to go to his knees to worship her like she deserved.   
  


After realizing she was his best match, he had not really looked at any other witch. He was still a virgin, which wasn’t too unusual; it happened to most Malfoy men who recognized their mates early in life. The idea of lying with a different witch felt like cheating, like he was degrading his love. Draco was very much aware of the rumors that were circulating pertaining to his sexual … proficiency, and he had cultivated these rumors. There was no need for his reputation to suffer just because his right hand had been his best friend, and there might or might not be a picture of Hermione from the Yule ball under his pillow.

“I forbid you to say my name like that!” His voice rang through the silence and Hermione startled.

“You scared me!” She swiftly turned around, ready to berate him, when she recognized the expression on his face. Hunger. There was no other way to describe it. He looked at her as if she was a feast and he a starving man.

“Why,” she had to clear her voice, “why shouldn’t I say your name?”

The expression in his eyes only intensified as he stalked over to her. There was really no other word for it. His body was taut like a bow and he moved with the grace of a panther. Hermione swallowed and instantly tried to move back, but she bumped into the window seat and fell backward onto the cushions.

Before she knew what had happened, he was kneeling over her, caging her in with his body.

“Because if you say my name in that breathy voice, all I want to do is give you a different reason to sigh like that. And believe me, Granger, sigh you would.” His gaze focused on her lips, and she parted them on instinct.

“And moan.” His nose grazed her neck, and Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from making his promise a reality.

Her scent was intoxicating. Draco could have spent an eternity just breathing her in; she smelled faintly of parchment and bergamot.

His warm breath was tickling her ear, and she instinctively raised her chin to give him better access. Draco smiled against her skin. She might not like him yet, but her body certainly craved him. He wondered if she had been touched like this before. Had the damned Weasel touched her? Had he made her moan? Did she bite those perfect lips for him? A wave of jealousy rolled over him and Draco had to take a deep breath to calm himself. He vowed to make her forget any other wizard that had touched her. She would be his completely. Body and soul, Hermione Granger would belong to him.

He continued the sensual assault on her body, taking note of each action that made her gasp or bite her lip just a bit harder. He would win her heart one battle at a time. His goal for today: to make her moan his name and writhe under him, lost in desire.   
  


His tongue caressed her earlobe, then drew it gently into his mouth, where his teeth nipped at it as he slowly worked his hand under her blouse. Merlin, she was soft! Touching her felt like heaven and he could hardly believe his luck. Carefully he let his fingers wander over her heated skin until he reached the edges of her bra. Deciding to push his luck he bit her earlobe more forcefully while simultaneously slipping his hand under her bra. Her breast fit perfectly into his hand and Draco could have died right then and there. Finally.

“Draaaccoo!” Her moan was everything he had ever dreamed it would be. Breathy, seductive, his. His thumb and forefinger captured her nipple and rolled it gently. It had already pebbled, leaving no doubt about her arousal. He pinched it a bit harder and Hermione’s back arched up from the cushions, her body pressing harder into his. “Please, Draco…”  
  


Draco moaned. Merlin. He shifted forward, pressing one of his knees on the window seat between her legs until he felt her core’s heat through his trousers.

“I love you. You’re perfect. Your breast fits in my hand like it was made for me, Granger.” He squeezed it to demonstrate his point and Hermione moaned again.

“If I touched you now, would you be wet for me, love?” His knee pressed harder into her core and her legs clamped around him on instinct.

“Wet just for me… I bet you smell divine. I can’t wait to taste you Granger. I would nuzzle your clit through your knickers before I would rip them off of you. Then I would taste you with my tongue. You would moan for me, wouldn’t you love? Moan my name. I would lick you and kiss you until you wouldn’t be able to take it anymore.” He rolled his knee in rhythm with his hand and Hermione was helpless to do anything but cling to him. Never had she felt such feelings. Even when she touched herself it was pleasant and she orgasmed, but nothing had ever set her afire like Draco’s touch. She moaned his name over and over and she could feel that she was close. It wouldn’t need much more to bring her over the edge.

“Please, please,…..oh god… don’t stop… Draco… please!” She was long beyond caring how she sounded. Her body was on fire and he was the only one who could soothe the flames. His movements, his voice, his scent - all of it intoxicated her. He smelled like vetiver. Green, earthy, smoky, with a bitter edge. Freshly mown grass with a dark side. It suited him and she would have gladly drowned in it.

Her movements against his body were becoming more random and her body screamed that it was close to reaching an orgasm. Draco pressed harder into her and redoubled his efforts to bring her over the edge. Sweet was forming on his brown and he could feel his cock pulsing in tandem with her movements. It wouldn’t need much to make him come as well.   
  


One last roll of his knee, a hard twist of her nipple and his teeth in her neck, marking her, finally brought her over the edge. Hermione screamed in abandonment and Draco quietly growled as his cock twitched one last time. He had come with her.

He leaned back a bit, looking into her eyes. They were unfocused and a smile was playing on her lips. HE had made her smile. He had made her orgasm. The brief embarrassment he had felt when coming in his pants vanished when he realized what just had happened. He had made Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Princess, moan in abandon and she had come from his ministrations. The thought made him grin. He could still feel her pulsing against his knee.

Carefully he disentangled himself from her, although he would have preferred nothing more than gathering her into his arms and into his bedroom.

He spoke a wandless cleaning charm over both of them and Hermione felt his magic caress her. She sat up and fiddled with her clothes until she looked presentable again. She couldn’t bring herself to look into Draco’s eyes. She’d never been with anyone in that way before. No one but herself had ever brought her to orgasm. The most she had done was kiss a boy under the mistletoe - never had she felt someone else’s touch like this. She knew he had come as well and the thought pleased her to no end. She, bookworm Hermione Granger, had made the Slytherin sex god come without doing anything.

She frowned. She really hadn’t done anything. She had just clung to him like an idiot. What must he think of her? Like some Harlot who threw herself at man. She had writhed under him like a scarlet woman. Like Lavender Brown.

She opened her eyes and looked at him. He was still standing a few feet away from her, a sated and wondrous expression on his face, and she melted. She might not understand why he loved her, but it was written all over him. She smiled and saw him exhale and tentatively return her smile. She wanted to say something, but before she could, Harry and Ron entered the room still arguing about their Quidditch strategy.

“I tell you mate, it would be better to do the feint later. More of an umph if you know what I mean,” Harry said and briefly smiled at Hermione and nodded at Draco before he sank down on one of the sofas. If he thought anything was amiss, he didn’t let on. Ron followed behind him completely, ignoring Malfoy.

“Hey ‘Mione. Nice room, huh? I bet you are thinking about all the homework you can do in here. After all, you can come to this room all the time. It’s basically your private office and you can sigh and moan over all the books in here. They might even give you some sleepless nights.” Ron sat down and immediately grabbed a biscuit.

Draco smirked as he saw Hermione turning beet red.

“My, my. I wasn’t aware that you moan over books, Granger.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Gets all barmy. She even takes them to bed. Sometimes I think there is no room in her bed for Hermione herself.”

The idea that the Weasel knew enough about her to know her sleeping habits did not make Draco happy. Not at all. A steely sheen entered his eyes and he sat down on one of the arm chairs looking straight at her.

“Well then. Let’s hope that you will find this room stimulating, Granger. Have you looked at the books yet? Maybe there is something that arouses your …interest.”

Harry looked between Hermione and Draco but decided to not ask the question that was lying on the tip of his tongue. It wasn’t his place.


	7. Chapter 7

Harry looked between Hermione and Draco but decided to not ask the question that was on the tip of his tongue. It wasn’t his place.

“Anyway. Let’s discuss the plan.” Hermione overenthusiastically said before she jumped up and went to the other couch and sat down next to Draco.

She hadn’t even thought about sitting in one of the arm chairs. She sat down next to him without hesitation, choosing to ignore his smirk.

She summoned a notebook and a pen (quills were fine but totally useless while working on a sofa), slipped out of her shoes and curled her feet sideways under her, her toes pointing towards Draco.

“Draco, your father and Dumbledore said something about Hocruxes yesterday. Could you please explain what they are?”

He nodded. “Sure. Voldemort wants two things: immortality and power.” Unconsciously, Draco held on to one of her ankles, his thumb stroking circles into her skin.  
  


“He has accumulated power over the years. The more followers he has, the more powerful he becomes. Since he was able to become corporeal again, he has started to gain followers again. I know that you lot think that there are roughly 28 or so, but you are wrong. Voldemort is thinking bigger than the UK. He has Death Eaters in almost every major magical community on the globe.” He paused for effect - and was not disappointed.

Hermione sucked in a deep breath of air; the Weasel just gaped at him. The only one who didn’t look too surprised was Potter. He stored that information away for later.

“H…how many more do you think there are?”  


He looked into her beautiful brown eyes when he answered, the grip on her ankle tightening.

“At least a few hundred.”

Hermione closed her eyes in agony. It was one thing to fight against 28 dark wizards - but hundreds of them?

“The good news is that most of them are inactive. After his defeat by a baby, some of them grew weary of Voldemort.”

“I guess that is good news.” She sighed. “Harry, what do you think?”

“Well, Dumbledore knew that Voldemort had made Hocruxes, and Lucius Malfoy knew that there are 6. I think we are a hell of a lot farther along than yesterday.”

“How do we destroy them?” Ron asked, looking worried.

The teens looked at each other; that was a very good question indeed.

\----- 

Later that night, Hermione lay in bed, the events of the day still fresh in her mind. Her attention was divided between the Hocruxes and Draco. Her cheeks reddened when she thought about their time in the new room, and she had to squeeze her thighs together when she started to feel aroused all over again. She could not deny that he had awakened something inside of her. And yet, a part of her wondered if this wasn’t a normal reaction. She was a healthy 17-year-old woman after all, with a normal sexual appetite. And Draco was a 5-star buffet. Her brows furrowed. Or maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe kissing Harry or Ron or even Zabini would create the same feelings in her?

At the same time similar thoughts went through Harry’s head.

“Ron? Are you still awake?” Harry was sitting in his bed, unable to sleep. However, it was not Voldemort that kept him awake but Hermione and Draco.

“Ron!”

His loud voice brought Ron back from the light slumber he had fallen into. “Mate, seriously. It’s late - can’t it wait till tomorrow?”

“Oh Ron, I think you waited long enough already.” Harry’s voice sounded almost resigned.

That got his attention.

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked, perplexed.

“You know what.” Harry just stared at him. “Look, it’s not my place to say anything, but … you need to make a move or lose your chance forever.” There was no question who needed to make a move on whom. Clearly the subject being discussed was a very sassy brunette.

Ron scoffed. “Come on, Harry. She’s not going to fall for that slimy ferret.”

“Trust me Ron. If you don’t make a move soon, it’ll be too late. Just think about it. G’night.” Harry only hoped that Ron would heed his advice. The picture of the bite mark on Hermione’s neck would forever be burned on his retina.

\---

‘I’m a healthy 17-year-old. Anyone could get these reactions from me!’

The thought would not leave her alone for the next few days. Neither of them had had time to do anything aside from studying, between tests and Quidditch games. It was on a Wednesday afternoon that Hermione finally found some time to breathe, and she went to the secret room to research.

She had been working for a few hours when Ron came in, dropping off his essay for her to proofread.

At first Hermione barely glanced up but then she heard the voice again. ‘Anyone’

Deciding to find out, one way or another, if her feelings for Ron and his for her were really what she thought they were, Hermione smiled at him and motioned for him to sit down next to her.

She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger, smiling coyly at him.

“You must have been working so hard on this essay to be finished already, Ron.” Her voice was almost breathy.

Ron looked at her, startled. “Are you all right, Mione? Your voice is all weird.”

Bititng her tongue, she just smiled at him and scooted a bit closer.

“Do you like me, Ron?” Ron nearly choked after Hermione asked him. He licked his lips nervously and smiled at her.

“Of course I do! What a funny question.”

She studied him thoroughly. Hermione knew every freckle on his face. She had stared at him enough times over the years. Stared and waited; waited for Ron Weasley to get his act together and make her his.

And now it was time. She needed him to gather his Gryffindor bravery and she needed him to do it now.

“As a friend?” She probed.

Ron nodded eagerly, “Sure, Mione. You are my best friend.” He was still not meeting her eyes. And Hermione tutted in desperation.

“For heaven’s sake Ronald. Look at me!” Finally he looked up and his eyes met hers. She stared into his green eyes and decided it was now or never. She carefully leaned forward, giving him every chance to stop her. But he didn’t, and soon she touched her lips to his for the first time. They were warm and slightly chapped.

Once their lips touched, it was as if a switch had been thrown. Ron pulled her toward him, grabbing her waist. His mouth pressed against hers and he moaned. They continued to kiss for a while before his tongue begged entrance between her lips. Hesitantly, Hermione granted the request. She opened her lips and slipped her arms around his body to press him closer. It was….nice. She wasn’t disgusted or bored. It was wonderfully passionate. Pleasant. Yes, perfectly pleasant. She let out a frustrated growl and pressed harder against Ron. When he didn’t take the hint, she took his hand and slipped it under her blouse onto her breast.

Ron jerked back, his hand frozen on her breast. Breathing hard, he gazed into her eyes and Hermione smiled at him, nodding in encouragement. _‘You might be too late already._ ’ Harry’s voice had entered his head, unprompted. He was half hard already. Hermione’s kisses were different from Lavender’s. His longtime friend seemed rather aggressive, and it disturbed him a bit, but not enough to stop - what teenage boy would?

“Oh Mione. I..” But she stopped him with a kiss. She would feel the same with Draco. She knew it. Ron just needed to touch her more. That was it. She straddled Ron and felt his hardening cock against her core as she pressed into him. Nice. She could have cried. Grinding harder and harder against Ron’s cock, she tried to generate the same emotions Malfoy was able to get with just his knee. What else had he done? He had kissed her. Check. Knee between her legs. Kinda. She decided that a hard penis between her legs should create even more arousal. Ah, Malfoy had bitten her. That must be it. She detached her lips and kissed his earlobe before biting it lightly,  
  


“Please Ron, bite me!”

“What!?” Ron could hardly focus. Never before had a girl been this aggressive with him. This wanton. God, it turned him on. All thoughts about this not being right because he had a girlfriend, or Hermione being his best friend, had left his sex-clouded brain minutes ago.

“Bite my neck. Tweak my nipple. Do it now!” He obliged, then came in his trousers after a particularly good grind against his cock. His body first stiffened and then relaxed before he tensed again. Hermione stopped moving above him. She looked troubled.

“Did I.. did I do something wrong?” His voice was meek and Hermione felt like crying. She had just used Ron, one of her best friends, and it had accomplished nothing. She hadn’t even come close to feeling the same as when Malfoy barely kissed her.  
  


“Well, obviously, Weasel. Just look at her. She hasn’t come. Have you, Granger?” Draco’s cold drawl was like a bucket of ice water. They both jerked apart and Hermione hardly dared to look into Draco’s face.

“Oi. Get out, Ferret. This has nothing to do with you1” Ron scrambled up and walked towards Malfoy, but Hermione grabbed his sleeve to hold him back.

Draco looked between the two. ”Right you are Weasel. Nothing to do with me at all. Please excuse me.” Without another word Draco left, and Hermione felt even worse.

“Hermione I … I have always liked you, but I never knew how to say it. I am so glad that you - ”

“Please don’t, Ron,” she interrupted. Tears welled up in her eyes, “I was trying so hard to feel. I was so hoping that what I felt when Draco touches me was just because I have been starved for affection.” The tears started flowing. “Because I was waiting for you. For years I thought that you would say something, do something, but you never did. So when Draco - when he touched me… I thought it was because of hormones. That is why I needed to know.”

“You… didn’t like it?” His voice was so small she wished she could take it all back.

“It was …nice. Comforting.”

“And with him?”

“Arousing, exhilarating, scorching. I am so sorry, Ron.” Hermione broke down crying, but Ron just laughed.

Startled, she looked at him. He was nearly doubled over with laughter.

“Thank Merlin!”

“Excuse me, Ronald?!” The indignation in her voice had him laughing even harder.

“For days, Harry has been hounding me to tell you how I feel. But I had no idea how I felt. I mean…” He looked at her fondly. “We’ve been best friends for years. You’re like a sister to me. Everyone just assumed that we would end up together, but let’s face it, Mione. I would drive you insane!” She opened her mouth to object, but he held up his hand.

“What do we really have in common? Can you really imagine spending your life with me? We don’t like the same things, and we’d drive each other spare.”

He sat down next to her, smiling. Sensing her next question, he said: “And yes, I enjoyed what just happened, but let’s face it. A bloke who would not enjoy a pretty girl sitting on his lap snogging him within an inch of his life would just be….well, gay, I guess.”

Hermione looked at him in astonishment.

“So… we are ok? You aren’t mad?”

Ron scoffed. “Teenage bloke, free orgasm. I’ll survive. Thank you for trying.”  
  


They sat together in silence for a few minutes. Hermione’s mind was reeling. If not even Ron, a boy she thought she loved and would marry one day, could create the same feeling as Malfoy, then she might as well face the fact that there was more between them than she had thought.

“Malfoy, huh?” Disgust tinged Ron’s voice.

Hermione sighed. “Afraid so. Not that I planned it. Would you…” She hesitantly took his hand and he interlaced her fingers with hers.

“You would still be my friend, right?”

Ron squeezed her hand. “Of course. I can still make fun of the Ferret, though. Right?”  
  


She laughed. “Maybe not until I’ve fixed this.”

Ron smiled but then he sobered up.

“He looked really hurt, Hermione. I know this is weird and I know he was an ass to you, but…I think he really loves you.”

He cuffed her arm. “Any bloke who is willing to face Voldemort _and_ Lucius Malfoy for you must be insane or in love. Malfoy might be both!”

She put her head on his shoulder. “I know. I just needed to know. I’ll make it up to him.”

Together they sat in silence for a while.

“Ron?”

“Mh?”

“Thank you for being my best friend.”

“Always!”

\---

Hermione tried cornering Draco discreetly multiple times over the course of the next day before she’d had enough of his avoiding her. So, Friday evening, she borrowed Harry’s Invisibility Cloak and the Map and went to the Slytherin Dungeons. There she patiently waited for a Slytherin to go through the portrait so that she could slip through unnoticed. Carefully, she made her way through the Common Room. She knew that all Slytherin 6th years had their own rooms. She cast a quick spell to figure out which one was Malfoy’s and then slipped inside.

It looked like all the other dormitories, but for the bigger bed and the slightly different color scheme. Hermione sat on the bed, finally falling asleep while waiting for Draco. A few hours later, she woke when the door banged open. She stared at Draco through the cloak. He had just come from Quidditch practice and his uniform was all wrinkled and dirty.  
  


Wordless He closed his door, and before she could say anything he started to undress. Soon he was completely naked, and Hermione had to bite her lip to keep from moaning. Gods, he was exquisite. His skin was alabaster, his body chiseled and nearly hair free except for a light dusting all over his arms and legs - and of course the nest of curls between his legs.

She watched him as he went into the room next door. And waited. Finally, she couldn’t take it any more and silently followed him. Malfoy was lying in a bathtub. The whole room smelled of birch oil, a muscle-relaxing essential oil; it must have been a rough training session. Stepping closer, she let the cloak drop.  
  


Trying and failing to come up with a clever opening, she finally gave up and said: “You do not get to be angry about it!!”

Draco nearly choked. He hastily turned around, not really believing his eyes. Hermione was standing in his bathroom, wearing a silky black nightgown. His eyes wandered over her, caressing her every curve, and Hermione knew she’d made the right decision when choosing what to wear. What had Ron said? 17 year old boy. She smirked.

“How did you get in here?” He knew that shouldn’t have been his first question, but most of his blood had left his brain already. Against the stark black of the almost see-through material, her skin glowed.

Hermione shook her head. “Irrelevant. You do not get to be angry about what happened with Ron.”

Ron. Right. He knew there was a reason why he hadn’t dragged her into the tub yet.

His eyes turned steely, and he turned away from her. “Really? How did you reach that conclusion?” Some of the old Malfoy coldness had entered his voice, and she hated it. Moving forward, she sat on the edge of the tub facing him. Her hand started playing in the water and she accidentally touched his knee. He moved it away and she frowned.

“I love Ron.”

Honestly! The nerve of that woman. “Yes, thank you Granger, for the clarification. Please go now.” He closed his eyes and prayed for her to leave. After all, he had known that she did not love him. They were not exclusive. The fact that he was in love with her had no real impact on her.

Finding her with Weasley had hurt like hell. His heart had dropped into his stomach when he entered the room just to see her grinding against the red headed moron. The only thing that had not made him lose his mind completely was the fact that, while the Weasel had enjoyed it, Hermione clearly had not.

She slapped his knee. “No! I have loved Ron for years. I thought I would marry him, and have cute red-headed freckled babies, and be a part of his loud and loving family.”  
  


Draco couldn’t look at her. Why was she telling him this? “Are you insane, woman?!” He gripped the tub with both hands pulling his upper body towards her. His expression dangerous. “I defied Voldemort for you! I threw centuries of breeding and Pureblood beliefs out. FOR YOU! And you have the gall to tell me that I’m not _allowed_ to be angry about you slumming it with that idiot? You cannot be serious!!”

She held her hand up, and continued as if he hadn’t just screamed his love at her.

“But then you came along and kissed me and snogged me and told me you love me.” She smiled sadly.

“And I thought if Ron would do that - if he would find the courage to confess his feelings, I would feel the same with him. It would prove that this thing between us…” she gestured between them with her hand,” … is just hormones. We are 17, for crying out loud. Hormone central. Hell, even Harry could probably get me off if he tried.”

Draco had leaned back again and stared at the wall. He didn’t want her to see the tears in his eyes. He was pathetic really; there was no other word for it.

Her voice grew stronger by the second, and he briefly was glad about the permanent silencing spells inside his dormitory.

“But guess what, Malfoy. It was nice!”

At that he actually looked at her.

“Nice! Do you have any idea how horrible that is? The boy I have loved for years, the boy I thought was mine… he can’t draw out a tenth of the passion in me that you do!” She had almost screamed the last part and had to take a deep breath to calm herself. 

In a softer voice, she continued. “So, you don’t get to be angry about this. I needed to know. I needed to know whether what we have was just a weird mixture of hormones and neglect.”

“Neglect?” He couldn’t help himself.

“I have never let someone touch me the way you touched me, Draco. I thought I was just starved for affection, but…but..” Her voice trailed off as she was staring into his eyes. His beautiful grey eyes.

“But what?”

“But it is you. Just you.”

“How many boys have you kissed Granger?” He tried to put anger into his voice but he wasn’t really feeling it. At this point he was almost amused. She had thought what had happened between them was just a fluke. Basically, just her being horny. Thank Merlin that the Weasel seemed to be a lousy lover.

“Victor Krum.” His brow furrowed. He was sure that Krum knew how to kiss.

“And? Was it nice?” He barely hesitated before asking.

“Yes.” She looked him straight in the eyes. Her hand had found his knee again and she kept stroking it. He doubted that it was a conscious movement.

“Who else?”

“Harry. It was ok.”

Potter. He could deal with that. He was 99% sure the two were like brother and sister anyway.

“Who else?”

“Ron. You know how it ended.”

“And what if I kiss you, Granger? What does that feel like?” His eyes never left hers and Hermione was mesmerized. She couldn’t have looked away even if she wanted to.

“It feels like fire. Like drinking water after a drought, like coming home.”

Satisfied, Draco leaned back in the tub. He looked her over and smirked.

“So what you are saying is that I am not allowed to be angry about you kissing the Weasel.”

She was glad to know that the usual Malfoy arrogance was back in place, and allowed herself a small smirk in return.

“Exactly.”

Draco nodded. “All right then.”

She actually snorted. “All right then.”  
  


Her hand wandered away from his knee, deeper into the tub. His eyes darkened even more as he stared at her. Soon her hand brushed against a different appendix. Hermione hesitated for a second before continuing. By now, she was kneeling next to the tub, her arm almost completely under water. His eyes widened almost comically when her hand seized his cock. She started to softly stroke him, and his eyes fluttered closed.

“In fact, I’m sorry you had to see it. I was going to tell you, but I didn’t want it to happen like that. I’m still not sure if I like you, Draco. At this point I can say that I don’t dislike you.”

He opened his eyes to gape at her. “You could have fooled me, Granger. Seems that you like me well enough!”

“I think you are very attractive, and when you look at me like that, all I want is to be kissed by you. Touched by you. Seduced… by you.” Her hand was still making the most delicious movements, and Draco could not contain the moan that left his lips.

“Gods, Granger. Don’t stop!” She didn’t. Speeding up, she varied the pressure and leaned forward so she could kiss his lips. Her mouth moved along his cheek until she could nip at his earlobe.

“So, I want us to get to know each other. I want dates.”  
  


The word “dates” brought him briefly out of his sensual haze. “Are you mad, woman? I’m a spy. Dating the enemy is kind of a dead giveaway that something is amiss.”

She shrugged her shoulders, still sucking on his skin. She relished the thought of leaving a mark.

“I’ll figure something out. And I want ground rules.”

He barely registered that she was speaking at all. Merlin, maybe she should be the spy. Clearly his witch had many gifts. “Huh?”

“We need to be honest with each other. No half truths.” She pumped his cock harder.  
  


“Agreed.” He hissed the word, barely hanging on to the last bits of his self-control.

“No bashing of Harry or Ron.”

“Agreed! Don’t stop…. I’m so close….” He could feel it. He was almost there; he could already feel his balls tightening, and if she just kept going for a second he would…

“No penetrative sex.”

“What?” He spluttered. His erection was not happy with that.

“I mean it. I haven’t slept with anyone, and when I do I don’t want it to happen because we get caught up in a moment.” She had stilled her hand, and Draco regained some of his mental capacities.

“So deflowering is off the table?” He smirked at her. “Agreed.”

“Just like that? No discussion? No debate? No whining?” She looked skeptic.

“No. I agree. When we sleep together I want it to mean something, too. After all, it will be my first time as well.” He smiled shyly at her.

She scoffed. “Yeah, right.” If he wasn’t going to take this seriously, she might as well end the whole thing now. She let go of his cock, and Draco could have wept.

“NO, I mean it.” He grabbed her hand. “After I found out that you are the one, I never touched a girl again.”

Hermione just stared at him. Impossible. He was too good at this. She wanted to tell him that she would not tolerate being lied to, but something in his eyes stopped her.

“You’re serious.”

  
He smiled. “Quite.”

“Then how the hell did you get so good at this?”

  
He laughed out loud. Trust his soul mate to initiate the weirdest conversation of his life.

“I read, Granger; you should try it some time.” So cocky! She had preferred it when he had been all breathless earlier. Determined to get the feeling of power back that she had experienced only minutes earlier, she grabbed his cock again and resumed her ministrations. Now, after all the important things had been said, she focused solely on bringing him to orgasm.

It took only a few more strokes, combined with her nibbling at his neck, to transform Draco back into a quivering mess. Inspired by his actions only a few days ago, she bit his neck and squeezed his cock hard, wrenching a long moan and deep shudder from him as he came in her hand. Hermione gently stroked him through it, placing a final kiss on his lips when he stilled.

He’d painfully banged his head against the tub when he came, but Draco had hardly noticed it. That had been the best orgasm of his life. It… no, _she_ … had been incredible.

He smiled at her and kissed her lovingly.

“Thank you, love.”

She nodded, her belly already clenching in anticipation of his next move. She would not be disappointed.

Draco stood up, the water cascading over his body. He stepped out and offered her a hand. She took it, and he hauled her against his body, kissing her soundly. Hermione melted. There it was. The fire.

Draco’s hands roamed over her, finally settling on her sides, then his lips trailed lower as he knelt before her. He nuzzled into her belly and she grabbed his head. She was already on fire, and could hardly await his next step. He moved back up, pausing to bite a silk-clad nipple, and she almost lost her balance.  
  


“Yes, please… oh Draco.”

Something heavy settled on her shoulders and it took her a few breaths to open her eyes. Barely a foot away from her, Draco was smirking. Once he was sure he had her attention, he fastened the Invisibility Cloak around her shoulders.

“Now off you go, you minx. I have another early Quidditch practice at 5 tomorrow and it’s already past midnight.”

“What?! But…” He could not be serious.

He just smiled. “Were you hoping for another round of snogging, maybe an orgasm?” Mirth was noticeable in his voice.

She nearly stomped her foot in frustration. “To be honest? Yes!”

He looked at her, a strange gleam in his eyes.

“Sorry, Miss Granger. Consider this your punishment for being a bad girl.”

He walked her backward; after only two steps, her back hit the cold stone wall. Without further ado he pressed his knee between her thighs and kissed her with abandon. Within seconds she was writhing beneath him again and he felt her now familiar heat on his flesh. Draco humped her and bit her neck. He could feel her starting to clench beneath him, which was when he stopped and stepped away from her. It wasn’t until he had pushed her back into his bedroom and toward the door that she found her voice.

“You can’t be serious!”

“Afraid so. See you tomorrow, Granger.”

He pulled the cloak over her head and pushed a still spluttering Hermione out of his room. It might have been the hardest thing Draco Malfoy had ever done - and he did it with a big grin on his face. Whistling, he went to bed.

“Like coming home and fire. I can work with that!”


	8. Chapter 8

So sorry. I started a new job and things have been moving very slowly. I will try to post something soon.

After Draco had thrown her out, she had stumbled back to Gryffindor Tower. Ron and Harry had still been playing a round of chess when she dropped her borrowed items off.

Ron had looked at her once and laughed.

“Payback?”

Her eyes had flashed. “Yes,” she gritted out. She was very well aware of what she must have looked like.

Without another word, she had gone into her dorm, taken a cold shower and gone to bed.

\----- 

After a more or less sleepless night, Hermione sat in the window seat in the secret study room, cradling a huge mug of really strong coffee in her hands, drinking as she looked out. She was sitting on the window seat looking out while she was slurping her coffee.  
  


“Good morning, my love.”

“Sod off, Malfoy.” The git just laughed. Since it was Saturday, he was wearing dark grey slacks and a dark green button up. He looked well-rested and chipper. She hated him.

Sitting down next to her, he took the mug out of her hand and tasted her coffee.

“Urgh. How the hell can you drink this abhorrent stuff? What is this?”

Hermione had tried to contain her bubble of laughter, but her effort was in vain. She took her cup back.

“It’s coffee, you idiot.”

Draco vehemently shook his head. “That, Granger, is not coffee!”

“Daisy!” Before she could ask what he was doing, a house elf popped into the room. She was wearing red pants and a white shirt.

“Yes, Mr. Draco, sir?”

“Daisy, please bring me a large carafe of coffee. From my private stock, please, and if there are any, some fresh pastries. And take this with you please.” He took Hermione’s coffee from her and gave it to the elf. “Thank you.”

Before Hermione could protest, the elf had vanished and Draco had leaned over to briefly kiss her. His tongue briefly dipped in between her lips but he made a disgruntled face and turned back.

“You taste awful, Granger!”

“You have a house elf? Here? In Hogwarts? Are you kidding me?”

He tutted. “Of course not. She’s a normal Hogwarts elf. She just happens to like me. She was freed years ago and the Hogwarts Governors are paying her salary. It just happens that my family pays the best.” He shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“How rich are you?”

Instead of being angry about the question he was just thoughtful for a moment.

“Well, right now not that rich. I mean I have trust funds from both my grandparents and my father but I would guess right now I am worth about four to five million galleons, give or take. But once I am the head of House Malfoy it will be more.” She wasn’t sure if it was his matter of fact tone, or the shoulder shrug but it made her smile. Here he was sitting with at least £20 million to his name and he didn’t care. Suddenly, she wanted to know more about him; about what his life had been like.

“Two truths and a lie.”

He just gazed at her. A second later, Daisy had arrived with a tea tray. She conjured a table and sat it next to the window seat. “Here you ares Mr. Draco. Do you needs anything else from Daisy?”

“No thank you.”

Daisy vanished and Draco prepared Hermione’s coffee- two sugars and cream. He handed it to her and she sipped the brew cautiously. It was delicious. The best coffee she had ever had, and prepared exactly to her liking. Before she could thank him, Draco was kissing her again. This time when his tongue dipped between her lips he moaned, as did she. His tongue really should be illegal. Too soon, the kiss was over, and he sweetly kissed her nose.

“Delicious. Good morning, love.” He leant back to prepare his own cup - black. Hermione filled the information away.

Hermione licked her lips to chase his taste.

Sipping his drink, he leaned back against the wall, sitting opposite her, their long legs stretched out side by side.

“I own a castle in Scotland, I had a pet dragon as a child, and I don’t know how to swim.”

She groaned. All of that sounded equally impossible.

“You didn’t have a pet dragon?” she guessed.

He smiled. “No, Tuffy. Wonderful animal. Sadly she died before I came to Hogwarts.”

With a faint voice she asked:”Castle?”

He shook his head. “Lovely estate, really. Close to Inverness. Bit drafty!”

“Seriously, you can’t swim?” She sounded incredulous.

“Never felt the need. You could teach me.” He said it teasingly but Hermione put it on her to-do list nonetheless.

“Your turn, Granger.” He grabbed a pastry and started munching on it.

“I am afraid of flying..”

“Doesn’t count. Everyone knows.” She scolded him.

“I have a driving license, I have never been to Australia, and I love romance novels.”

“Mh…. you love to read…so I will trust the romance thing; also.. kinky, Granger. Have you been to Australia?”

She nodded. “Yes. I went with my parents last summer.”

“What did you like best?” He was curious to see what she had liked. He had been with his family a few times and he just loved Melbourne.

“Melbourne. Hands down.”

He was delighted. They talked about their favorite places in Melbourne, and from there the conversation took flight. She had never realized how much they had in common. Draco loved to read; he loved traveling. He preferred warm countries over cold ones and much more. Before she knew it, two hours had passed and there had not been a gap in the conversation once. Daisy had come and refilled their coffee pot and they had eaten all the pastries.

“Have you finished your Transfiguration essay yet?”

Hermione nodded. “Of course. You?”

“Oh yes.” The essay was due on Monday, and she knew that almost all of the other 6th years would be working on it this weekend, which rendered Hogwarts basically empty - well, of course, except for the library.

“So … what are your plans for today?”

“I like this.” He nudged her leg with his and she melted.

“I like this, too.”

“May I ask you something?”

He nodded.

“What do you see? In your future I mean? With me?”

Draco inhaled deeply. “I see us. You doing some ridiculously underappreciated work in the Ministry. Me, staying at home with the kids and a private potions lab. A dog, maybe. I have always been fond of them.”

She loved that he knew her that well. And she liked the vision of him as a stay-at-home dad.

“How many kids?” Their coffee mugs had long been empty and put aside. Draco took her foot into his hands and took off her shoe and sock. Hermione thanked the stars that she had recently done a pedicure. Her nails were trim, neat, and blood red.

He groaned.

“Full of surprises you are, my dear.” He started kneading her foot and Hermione melted into the cushions. “Well, ideally we would have at least a boy and a girl; a boy with dark brown hair and grey eyes, and a girl with my hair and your smile.” He paused, lost in his own vision for a second.

“They would be bright and beautiful. How couldn’t they? They would be powerful, too. And we would love them.” His voice had taken on a wistful quality.

“They would grow up in a world without prejudice. We would be proud.” Looking up, he pressed into her instep and she groaned. Was there anything he couldn’t do?

“I would love you. Forever. We would be happy. You would be happy, and … you would love me?” The question in his voice broke something in her.

“Yes, I would.” Her voice was soft. The only way this future, his future would come to pass was if she loved him. She wasn’t there yet, not by a long shot, but she could see the possibility.

Nodding he asked her: “What do you see?”

“Same basically. Love, children, me in an underrated Ministry job. No Voldemort.”

“I will give you this future. I promise. You will be free of him. Your children will be.”

She didn’t miss the pronoun, but she didn’t comment. During the conversation he had treated her second foot to the same treatment as the first; she’d closed her eyes, having seldom felt so relaxed. They sat in silence for a while while he continued his ministrations.

“We agreed… no penetrative sex.”

Opening one eye she answered: “Yes.”

He nodded. “No other stipulations?” That got her to open both of them.

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I am just trying to establish boundaries, Granger. This seems to be ok - ” he pressed the foot he was working on “ - right?”

“God yes.” She moaned as he pressed a particularly sensitive spot.

“Snogging is also fine I presume.”

“Mhh” she affirmed.

“Even without clothes?”

Heat blossomed on her face, and she had to clear her throat. “Eventually, yes.”

A beat… then: “Oral sex?”

Hermione was beet red now. The nerve of that guy! “Awfully presumptuous of you, Malfoy.”

“Not really, Granger. I remember a particularly miffed brunette who left my rooms yesterday, dismayed that she left unsatisfied.” He teased.

She huffed. He did have a point.

“Fine, yes. Oral sex… if the other party wants it.”

He stilled.

“I would never force you, Hermione. You know that, right?” He sounded so sincere she almost had tears in her eyes. As she didn’t trust her voice, she just nodded.

“Will you tell the … Potter and Weasley about us?”

“I already have. Ron thought the whole thing was very amusing.”

“And we are exclusive!” That was not a question and it was her turn to stare at him.

“Seriously? What gave you the impression that I was doing this with other people on the side? Gods. Did you not pay attention to me yesterday? The nerve, Malfoy!” She retracted her feet, quietly bemoaning the loss of his talented fingers.

He sprung up as well. “Believe me, Granger. I paid attention. Which is why I know that you were trying to recreate the feelings I ignite in you. So forgive me if I want some form of agreement that you will not continue your little experiment!” All the frustration and hurt of the last few days seemed to just fly out of him. He stood before her panting, hating the way his throat clenched and his eyes burned. Instead of screaming at him, Hermione went to him without thinking and engulfed him in a tight embrace.

“I am sorry. Truly I am.” She continued to whisper the words as Draco clung to her, silently crying against her shoulder. She rubbed his back, pressing herself against him. She knew that she had hurt him. She would deeply regret it for the rest of her life. “I am sorry. So sorry. Draco. Yes. We are exclusive. There is no other!” His breathing calmed, and she held him until he was ready to face the world again.

\----

A few hours later, they had researched some more and Hermione felt more confident about the Horcruxes. They knew there were six, and they had found out that they must be things that were meaningful to Voldemort. Draco had promised to write his father. Maybe Lucius had missed something. They had not mentioned Draco’s emotional outburst. She had just kissed him, called Daisy for some more coffee and they had started to work side by side.  
Around four in the afternoon, Draco closed his book with a snap, startling her.

“We missed lunch. Tell you what, Granger. I will see you here for dinner, ok? Say at 6?” He jumped up and went to the door.

“Wait a second. What if I have plans?”

He cocked his head. “Do you?”

She hesitated. “Well, no…”

“So…?”

“For heaven’s sake! You could have asked nicely, Malfoy!”

Understanding dawned on him, and he went back to her chair. He knelt down in front of her.

“Hermione Granger, would you please do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner in this very room at 6?”

“How could I refuse?” She smiled.

He jumped up, went to the door, and briefly turned around again.

“Dress up, Granger!” He winked and left.

\---

Perfectly on time, Hermione entered the secret room. As she entered, she gasped. Dozens of candles were floating in the air. The fireplace was roaring, and instead of the usual work benches, a round table with a crisp white tablecloth stood in the middle of the room, with a stunning bouquet of flowers on top. The table was already set with gleaming silverware. Her gaze travelled further to Draco, who was standing in front of the window seat. He wore a suit in deep blue and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone. He looked practically edible. Draco walked towards her and offered her a magnificent bouquet of orange blossoms, iris, and daisies. She could hardly breathe. He frowned as she just stood there silently.

Inwardly he cursed. She probably had been expecting roses. He was an idiot. Most people had no idea about the language of flowers. He shouldn’t have assumed.

“I am sorry. You were probably expecting roses, but you see…”

“Oh I see.” She looked up. “Eternal love, hope and loyalty. These are perfect, Draco. Thank you.” She took the flowers and deeply inhaled their scent.

He cleared his throat. “They are charmed. They will stay like this forever.” She smiled even more brightly at that.

Winking at him, she laid the flowers aside and took off her outer robe. Now it was Draco’s turn to inhale. She was breathtaking in a knee-length, dark red ruffled chiffon dress with a deep V neckline. As his eyes travelled further down, he sighed as he saw her barely-there 3 inch black strappy stilettos.

“Definitely killing me, Granger.” She laughed.

He guided her to her chair and helped her sit down before sitting opposite her.

“Daisy?” Immediately Daisy appeared and with her the table filled with different kinds of antipasti, bread, salads, and a bottle of red wine. She snapped her fingers again and soft music began to play before she vanished.

“Potter said you like Italian.”

The idea that he had talked to Harry to find out what she liked warmed her heart.

“This is wonderful. Thank you!”

“Shall we?”

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and they both tucked in. They discussed countries they had seen and would like to see; soon Daisy cleared the starters and served their entrees. By the time dessert was served, a beautifully rich chocolate mousse with fresh strawberries, they had started their second bottle of wine.

“Tell me Granger, _Hogwarts, a History_ can’t actually be your favorite book, right?”

She shook her head. “No. I love it, don’t get me wrong, but no.”  
  


“So.. what is your favorite book then?”

She colored slightly. “It is an absolutely fun book. I read it once a year. _Dune_ by Frank Herbert.”  
  


“Tell me about it.” So all through dessert and the second bottle of wine, Hermione told him about her favorite book.

“It sounds good. I’ll read it then.”

“What about yours?”

  
“I love murder mysteries. There are a few I like, but I especially enjoyed T _he Postman Always Rings Twice_ by James M. Cain.”  
  


“But…he’s a Muggle.”

Draco shrugged. “Art is art, Granger. My family knew that even before I fell I love with you.”

Suddenly he stood up and held out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

She nodded and soon they were swaying back and forth to the music. Draco inhaled her scent greedily. Bergamot again.

“Bergamot.”

“Mh? Oh, it’s my shampoo.”

“I like it.” Hermione made a mental note to buy it in bulk.

They danced some more, and eventually Draco guided her to the rug in front of the fire. He summoned their wine glasses as they sat down.

“Thank you for giving me this chance, Hermione. I know that I do not deserve it, or you, but I am eternally grateful for the opportunity.”

Lost for words, she just nodded, continuing to sip her wine.

They quietly talked some more about this and that. Eventually Hermione’s head found its way to his lap and he started stroking her hair. The motion soothed her into sleep and he soon followed.

\---

Sunday morning dawned bright and early. Hermione groaned. Her hip kind of hurt, and her neck also protested when she stretched. What the hell happened to her mattress? The answer soon presented itself in the form of a deep male groan and a very masculine arm draped across her middle.

Her mind reeled. They must have fallen asleep in the secret room! She glanced at the clock on the mantel and groaned again. It was barely 5 am. Draco was spooning her and she huddled back into his warmth. One hand reached out for her wand and she cast a quick cushioning charm on the floor. Better. Much better. She soon drifted off again.

Heat. Hermione was dreaming of heat. She stretched and moaned. In her dream, she was lying on the beach; the waves were licking at her feet and she felt just phenomenal. She slowly reached consciousness and was not overly surprised to realize that the heat was being generated by the body behind her. His arm was slung over her belly, and her head was tucked under his chin. She absentmindedly started stroking his arm and he held her even tighter.

“Morning, love.”

“Good morning, Draco.” She vaguely wondered if she should be embarrassed but found that she wasn’t.

Letting her instincts guide her, Hermione snuggled back into his arms and together they just lay in silence for a while enjoying each other’s presence.

Eventually she broke the silence.

“Tell me about the legacy.”

Draco, who had been nuzzling her neck and kissing her behind her ear took a deep breath.

“It has been in my family for generations. It was Lucius I, who had been vying for the hand of Elizabeth I, who first encountered it. You see, while other pureblood families often intermarried to keep the lines pure, the Malfoys have always been more lenient.”

Hermione turned around surprised. “Really?!”

“Yes. Anyway, Lucius was ready to propose to the Queen when his magic core came in contact with his future wife’s. Apparently he immediately knew that she was his. He abandoned his pursuit of the Queen and started courting my ancestor. We are not sure how it happened or what exactly started it, but he was the first Malfoy who experienced it.”

She looked thoughtful.

“What did it feel like when our cores touched?”

He chuckled. “Hurt like hell, Granger. You have a mean right hook.”

She cuffed him. “Be serious.”

Draco looked deep into her eyes.

“It was as if a shockwave went through me. The second you touched me, I could feel the fire from the connection in my core. It was magnificent.”

Draco kissed her nose, and Hermione closed her eyes.

“I don’t think I felt it,” she mused.

“Maybe you did but didn’t know what it was.” Opening her eyes, she hesitantly smiled at him.

“Maybe. I was really mad at you.”

“I could tell.”

Draco rolled over until he hovered above her, one of his knees between her legs. Immediately Hermione felt the now-familiar stirring of arousal. She arched towards him.

“You are so responsive. I never would have thought I could see you like this.”

She blushed. “Well, that makes two of us then. I have no idea why all it takes is you looking at me and I am ready to …” She trailed off, too embarrassed to continue.  
  


Draco stopped kissing her neck.

“To …what, Granger?” He nipped her earlobe when she didn’t answer. When she still didn’t respond, Draco leaned back and looked into her chocolate eyes.

“Tell me, love.”

Closing her eyes in mortification, she whispered: “To surrender.”

When he didn’t respond, she hesitantly opened her eyes, her gaze finding his easily.

“You can undo me with just a look, Hermione. All you need do is smile and I am ready to do whatever you want. I know that this is all very sudden for you, but I have been waiting for this for the last few years, never really thinking it might come true. There is nothing - and I mean _nothing_ \- that you need to be embarrassed about.” The Malfoy smirk was very present on his lips when he looked at her.

“And if you want to surrender….well, I will be there to catch you. Always.”

She could have cried. It was amazing how attuned he was to her needs.

Draco sweetly kissed her again before he disentangled himself and stood up. He offered his hand to her and helped her up.

“Come on, love. You need something to eat.”

\----

After she had left the secret room, Hermione went back to Gryffindor Tower to shower and change before she met Ron and Harry for lunch in the Great Hall. She had been in an excellent mood all day and it was showing.

Ron just grinned at her and she stuck her tongue out briefly and Harry looked at her a bit more skeptically.

“Good day?” he asked.

She grinned. “Wonderful day!”

She ate her vegetable soup while she listened to Harry and Ron’s conversation. Astonishingly enough, it wasn’t about Quidditch.

“All I am saying is that maybe it would be worth it.”

Her interest was piqued. “What would be worth it?”

Harry and Ron shared a look.

“We were thinking… once you found out more about you-know-what and what to do with them, we might have to leave and search for them.”

Hermione sat in stunned silence. It took her a few seconds to find her voice again.  
“What do you mean leave?”

Harry just gave her a look. “You know what we mean.”

Indeed she knew, but it had never occurred to her that it really might be happening. She loved it here. Hogwarts gave her purpose, an identity; it had given her friends, family.

“When would we leave?”

“We?” Harry’s voice conveyed both surprise and elation.

She nodded. “Of course. You didn’t think I would let you leave alone, right?”

Her boys smiled at her.

“What about lover boy?” Ron asked.

Absentmindedly stirring her soup, Hermione paused. “He can’t come with us. It would blow his cover and put him in danger.”

Ron nodded. “Will you tell him?”

She nodded. “When it’s time. Right now, we have no idea what we are looking for.”

Soon after, their conversation went to lighter topics, and Hermione scolded them for not having finished their essays yet.


End file.
